The Righteous One
by ilostmyshoe6
Summary: Takes place after "The Things We Left Behind" S10 EP 9. Claire moves in to the Bunker, and Cas and Dean devise a plan to get rid of the Mark for good. What happens when Metatron is involved and the plan doesn't go the way they want to?
1. The Righteous One

"Tell me it was them or you!" Sam's voice reverberated against the walls of Randy's house, his hands holding Dean's face. Dean wished he could tell Sam what he wanted to hear. He wished that he could overlook the fact that Claire had screamed, that Cas had taken both Claire and himself out of the room, and that Sam's eyes were wet with tears. Dean tried stammering an apology, but he couldn't meet Sam's eyes. Sam stood up and turned his back to Dean, the comfort of his hands leaving Dean's face. Dean knew that he had run out of chances. He had told Sam that he was fine, that he wasn't being affected by the mark, but here he was. Dean looked around at the massacred bodies that surrounded him and then at his own bloodied hands. His mouth grew dry and the world seemed to be spinning around him as he remembered the thirst and hunger he had felt right before slaughtering them all. All the memories of the mark and of him being a demon had flooded Dean at that moment, and he once again felt like he lost control of his body.

Dean hadn't even seen Sam leave the house and reenter until he heard the click of handcuffs lock. Sam stood Dean up wordlessly, leading the now-handcuffed Dean towards the Impala where Cas was still comforting Claire.

"Sammy," Dean started, trying to get Sam to look at him once more, "I didn't… I mean I just….I'm sorry", Dean finished, hanging his head dejectedly. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. Dean was supposed to be the strong one, the one who carried Sam through life, someone his brother looked up to. He was supposed to be the righteous one.

Dean almost missed what Sam said when he finally spoke. "Dean, this is just for Claire's sake. For precaution. It's not your fault, it's the Mark's. We'll get through this like we always do, you know that."

Dean nodded. He knew that Sam was never ready to give up, that there was always another way or another option. Dean knew differently. Sam didn't know that Dean had just been acting, trying to be himself, trying to be human. He had gone through the actions of fixing his car, eating, drinking, having sex, watching porn, and hunting in hopes that he could be himself. He tried to occupy his life with anything that would fill an emptiness within him that the Mark had left, an emptiness that only craved violence and blood. And that was why Dean left Sam to be the hopeful one.

As Dean and Sam approached the Impala, he saw Claire glance up at him and flinch, burrowing her face once again into Castiel's trench coat. It was bad enough that his brother and best friend had to see him like this, but now he had subjected a young girl to his mess as well. Sam helped Dean maneuver himself into the passenger seat as Sam walked around to the driver's side. Sam turned the key in the ignition, and the Impala's engine roared to life, breaking the deafening silence that lingered in the car.

Claire had slowly regained her posture and had moved away from Cas after remembering that she was supposed to hate him. She brushed a stray piece of hair away from her face and asked, "So where are we going now?" Her voice was strong, but Sam noticed in the mirror that her hands were still shaking slightly.

"The Bunker", Sam answered softly. "All of us will be safe there."

"He's coming with us?" Claire's voice wavered slightly as her eyes darted back between Sam and Dean.

Dean tensed and shifted so slightly in his seat that no one but Sam could have noticed. Sam opened his mouth to answer, but it was Cas who spoke first.

"Yes, Claire. Dean is our friend, and our family. He will not hurt you." Cas tentatively patted Claire's shoulder before she shrugged his hand off. She looked at him for a moment, studying his face to see if he was telling the truth, then she silently nodded and started staring out the window.

The four of them drove in silence, watching as Randy's house disappeared in the rearview mirror. As they continued to drive, Claire's head started bobbing and ended up falling asleep on Cas' shoulder. Cas, unsure of what to do, just stared straight ahead without moving. Hours had passed until any of them said a word, and it was Dean who started to say something.

"Hey, Cas?" Dean turned his body slightly so that he was facing Cas in the back. Cas shifted his glance so that his piercing blue eyes were on Dean's. Now that Cas was looking at him, Dean didn't know what to say or how to even start.

"Dean, if you are attempting to apologize, there is no need. I know it is the Mark that is causing you to act this way. I meant what I said to Claire, that you are family and will not hurt us."

Dean gave Cas a small, polite smile. Dean couldn't get over the blind faith Cas had in him. "Just remember what I said, okay?" Dean responded, and turned back around in his seat.

Sam ignored his piqued curiosity at what Dean had just said to Cas and instead tried to bring up another topic. "So, Cas," Sam cleared his throat. "How're you holding up? You know, with the whole dad thing," Sam questioned, tilting his head towards Claire.

Cas looked down at Claire, still asleep against his shoulder, and brushed a piece of hair away from her face. "Children are fascinating creatures. I think we are doing quite well," Cas stated, just as Sam was pulling in front of the Bunker.

Sam got out of the car and helped Dean out, watching as Cas slowly nudged Claire awake. Claire became startled and quickly climbed out of the car out of Cas' reach. She stared at the rundown façade of the Bunker, and looked skeptically at the door. "What is this place?"

Sam quickly unlocked the front door and held it open, motioning for Claire to go inside. "Welcome home."


	2. Echoes

To say that Claire was speechless when she walked in would be an understatement. She ran a finger along the banister as she ran down the stairs, running all around the main room, trying to look at everything.

"What is this place?" Claire asked, still in awe of the enormity of the place. "It looks like something out of a James Bond movie."

"No, the agent 007 never lived in here," Cas replied, getting eye rolls from Dean and Sam in return.

"It's a hideout for the Men of Letters," Sam started, and then thought better of it. "You know what? Never mind. It's a long story." Sam yawned. "I'll tell you in the morning. Come on, I'll show you a room you can sleep in."

Sam motioned Claire to follow her further into the Bunker's hallways, watching as her head turned from side to side, trying to take everything in. Cas followed, dragging Dean with him, as Sam led Claire to a nicer room several doors down from Cas'.

Claire walked into the room. "This is mine?" she asked, making her way slowly over to the bed.

"Yes. For as long as you want to stay." Castiel had moved towards the doorway.

Claire looked down at her feet. "Night," she mumbled, and she shut the door just as Cas opened his mouth to reply.

Dean, Sam, and Cas walked back to the main room, taking a seat as Sam left to the kitchen to grab some beers.

Dean leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the table, pushing aside some papers and open books. "You know, you might just be good at that whole father thing after all," Dean told Cas, looking pointedly at him across the table.

Cas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I do not think she likes me very much."

"Yea, well, like I said, she'll come around. You just gotta do the right thing."

Cas tilted his head. "And what is the right thing exactly?"

"I don't know, man," Dean shrugged, "Parent her. Father her. Make sure she knows you care. Show her she's safe and has a home."

"And how am I supposed to do that when she just witnessed you massacring five people?" Cas' voice had risen steadily and he was now on his feet, staring hard at Dean, his palms flat against the table.

Dean sank back in his chair, his feet dropping from the table, and he raised his hands in surrender just as Sam returned with the beers.

Sam looked from Cas to Dean, still clutching three bottles. "You guys okay?" He asked cautiously, placing the beers on the table and passing one to Dean.

Dean grabbed the beer that was handed to him, twisted off the cap, and took a swig. "You tell me," he said harshly towards Cas, looking at him and waiting for an answer.

Cas look flustered as he all of a sudden noticed that he was standing. He looked from Sam to Dean, and simply stated, "I'm sorry," and with that, Cas was gone.

Dean went to take another sip from his beer but paused with the bottle halfway to his mouth as he saw Sam glaring at him.

Dean rolled his eyes and put his drink down. "What?" Dean snapped.

Sam leaned forward, gesturing with his hands. His voice rose as he spoke. "It's just that, you couldn't have been nicer? Cas just found his daughter and you did scare her!"

Now it was Dean's turn to start shouting. "What was I supposed to do?! There's was nothing I could say!" Dean's voice caught in his throat, and his voice lowered when he spoke again. "Cas is scared of me too." He lifted the beer bottle to his lips and closed his eyes. When he was done drinking, he opened his eyes and looked at Sam, whose eyes were just filled with pity instead of fear as Dean expected.

There was a long silence until either brother said anything. Finally Sam opened his mouth and spoke calmly this time. "No one is scared of you." Dean looked at him. "Okay, so Claire is. But Cas and I are just scared of what's going to happen _to_ you; we're not scared _of _you. I need you to understand that."

Dean half-smiled as Sam quoted him back when Dean was trying to save Sam from the trials. "Yea, I understand." He tipped his almost empty beer towards Sam, and Sam knocked his bottle against it. "Cheers."

Sam nodded and smiled. "Cheers."

The next morning Cas was back with several bags in tow. Dean and Sam were still in the same seats from last night, not being able to get any sleep. Sam had proposed the idea that someone stay with Dean at all times, to which Dean had protested, especially when he needed to go to the bathroom. However, a compromise had been made, and it ended with someone always keeping a close eye on Dean.

Dean raised his head off his arms as Cas approached the table.

Cas walked over to Dean. "Dean, I-", Cas started, but Dean waved his hand to cut him off.

"Forget it, man. No chick-flick moments," Dean said, rising from the table to clasp Cas on the shoulder.

"I do not understand how movies about romance and love movies that target females are prevalent here." Cas tilted his head as his eyebrows furrowed.

Dean actually laughed for the first time in a while, and headed towards the kitchen. Sam quickly jumped up and followed him. "Woah there, Sammy. Just going to make us some coffee," Dean said cheerfully, raising his hands up in surrender.

Sam gave Dean a quick smile. "Then I'll help," he responded, leaving Cas by himself in entrance room.

"I guess I'll just wait here then," Cas said to himself, placing his bags he brought on the floor by the table. He moved to go sit in the same seat that Dean just left, but at that moment Claire walked in yawning, still wearing the clothes from last night.

Claire shuffled slowly into where Cas was, still waking up. "How did you sleep?" Cas asked her, motioning for her to sit down instead of him.

Claire still looked a little weary and annoyed of Cas. She didn't answer his question, but instead asked her own. "Where's the bathroom?"

Cas pointed to a door off to the side in the closest hallway. Claire started to head in that direction but Cas stopped her. "Wait, I brought you these." He went over to the two bags that he had placed on the floor. "I went to the nearest store and picked out all the clothes that are deemed 'trendy' and 'cool'." Cas made air-quotes and Claire rolled her eyes. "I hope this is everything that you will need."

Claire walked over to the bags with her hands folded across her chest. She tentatively pulled back the opening to the first bag and saw that this one contained multiple pairs of pants, shirts, jackets, socks, and to her embarrassment, underwear. The next bag contained toothbrushes, deodorant, perfumes, and other beauty products. She mumbled a thanks, and carried the bags with her back to her room.

Sam and Dean reentered the room, both carrying cups of steaming coffee. "Claire up?" Sam asked nodding his head towards the bathroom where the sound of the shower was coming from.

Cas nodded. "I brought her clothes in attempt to make her feel comfortable. I'm not sure if it is working." Cas walked over to the table, and sat down, his eyes sad.

"Don't worry, she'll come around. They always do. We did." Sam responded, taking a seat next to Cas.

Dean moved to join them. He placed his coffee mug down and went to grab a stack of books. He dropped them on the table in front of Sam and Cas, showering them in a cloud of dust. "Happy reading, guys," Dean joked, pulling up a seat for himself.

Sam eyed the books, and spoke cautiously. "Dean, as happy as I am seeing you interested in reading books without pictures, we looked through _every_ book in the Bunker when you a demon. There's nothing about a cure for the Mark."

"True," Dean replied, pointing at Sam. "But, we never looked for a way to transfer the Mark, to pass it on like Cain did to me." Dean stared at Sam expectantly, waiting for a sign of approval of his idea.

"That might work." Cas stared thoughtfully at Dean's forearm where the Mark was prominent. "If only Cain did not sacrifice himself or else we could ask him."

"Well he said whoever took the Mark had to be worthy, but who judges that anyways?" Dean grabbed the first book off the stack and opened it, taking a sip from his coffee.

"Dean, wait." Sam's voice was edged with frustration. "We can't just give this to someone like it's a present. We'd be giving them a disease. We'd be setting them up for us killing them."

Dean's eyebrows furrowed. "I don't see the problem. So we find a serial killer or something, give them the mark, then we gank them. We'd be doing the world a service!" Dean's face twisted in anger as he started to yell at Sam.

"It would still be killing someone, Dean," Sam pointed out, slowly drawing out each word as to resist his temptation to raise his voice.

Dean threw his hands up. "And so what? We'll kill people, that's what we do!" Dean's hands fell back into his lap, and he sank back in his chair. He spoke again, but softly this time. "Don't you think that the world owes us, just this once? Don't you think we deserve to catch a break?" He shook his head and sighed. "Why us, Sammy?" Dean pushed away from the table and walked towards his room, slamming the door behind him.

For once, Sam didn't follow him because he didn't know what to say. He had never heard Dean be so open about what he was feeling, and the fact was it terrified him. Sam glanced over at Cas, and he looked about as uneasy as Sam felt. He knew Dean was right. The two of them had gone through so much, and there never seemed to be an end in sight. Sam sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to figure out what to do. Dean was losing hope, and Sam knew that if he didn't figure out something, Dean would, and it wouldn't be the best plan.

Sam and Cas hadn't even heard the showed stop until Claire approached them carefully. She had changed into some of the clothes that Cas had brought, and she had to admit that it was nice to do so.

Sam cleared his throat. "Are you hungry? We don't have much, but I think we might have some Poptarts or something in the kitchen I can go get for you."

Claire shook her head defiantly, her wet hair sending droplets of water onto the table. "I'll go get something for myself, if you don't mind." Sam nodded and pointed to the direction of the kitchen, and Claire walked off, braiding her hair as she went.

Sam looked at Cas, who hadn't said anything since before Dean had left. "You agree with Dean." It wasn't a question, but even so Sam wanted to know what Cas thought.

"Yes, in a way. It is a possibility that we must keep open, Sam. We both want what is best for Dean, and transferring the Mark might be just that." Cas thumbed through the book that Dean had left open.

"But does the end justify the means?" Sam asked in response, his eyes begging Cas to understand.

Cas looked away. "In this case, it might. And when it comes down to it, you'll do what is best for your brother, even if that might mean accepting Dean's plans."

Sam nodded, looking down at his hands which were clasped around his coffee mug. Cas was right. He would do whatever it took to save Dean. He breathed deeply then reached for a book on the table. Even if Cas was right, it didn't mean that Sam couldn't look for an alternative in the meantime. He sighed, took a sip of coffee, and settled into his chair with his book, ready for the long, boring day ahead of him.

Cas mimicked Sam and he too grabbed a book and immersed himself in it. Claire had made herself breakfast and brought it to her room, and Cas decided not to interfere; she needed some time alone to process everything that had just happened in the last 24 hours. He watched as Sam's eyes started to glaze over as the hours past and the pages of the books flipped. Around lunchtime Sam gave up with the books and brought his laptop out. He then made three grilled cheeses, left one by Dean's door and one by Claire's, and then took the other back with him to the table so he continue researching. Neither Dean nor Claire made any attempt to join them.

That routine continued for the next couple days. Sam researched, Cas flitted in and out of the Bunker, bringing news or any information relevant to them, and Claire and Dean stayed out of sight. Sam continued to leave food by their doors, and only heard the doors open once he was almost out of earshot. On the last day of that week, Dean finally emerged from his room, looking as gleeful as ever. He walked over to where Sam was nodding off in his chair, book open in his lap.

"Sammy! I've got it!" Dean slammed his palms down on the table in front of Sam, causing his head to jerk upwards and the book to fall to the floor.

Sam blinked several times as he focused on Dean. "Dean?" Sam asked groggily.

"Metatron! I don't know why we didn't figure this out before. We need to go to heaven and get him. Now." Dean started closing all the open books on the table.

Sam had finally almost fully woken up, and he tried to process what Dean was saying. "Metatron? Dean, that's a terrible idea." He shook his head and grabbed his book off the floor.

"He's probably the only person who knows how to get rid of it, besides Cain of course, but he's dead, so…" Dean continued, not seeming to hear Sam. "I figured, if he doesn't know, we can try to give the Mark to him, because he's a douche and deserves it. Then we can just keep him there. Or keep him here, if we go get him." Dean took a swig from Sam's cold coffee cup from the previous night and stared at Sam, waiting for his response.

"Metatron," Sam repeated. "You want us to talk to Metatron. You know he killed you, right?" Sam asked seriously. "We can't just give the evil bastard the Mark of Cain! You know what could happen?" Sam was looking at Dean in disbelief.

"Come on, Sammy. This is our only plan! I thought you would like this better than my last idea. Cas would agree." Dean retorted back.

Sam stood up and started pacing. "We just need to think this through. Come up with a solid, decent plan. Let's not rush anything."

As soon as Sam said that, Cas appeared. "Dean," Cas began, his deep voice sounding even rougher. "I can get you to Metatron." With that being said, Cas placed his hand on Dean's shoulder, and they were gone.

"Dean!" Sam cried, turning around frantically. But only his own echoes answered him.


	3. The Truth

Sam picked up the nearest book and threw it against the wall in frustration, watching as some of the loose pages fluttered to the ground. He ran his hands through his hair and started pacing, leaving his hands at the nape of his neck. Sam didn't know how long he had been pacing or how long it had been since Cas and Dean had left. However, sometime during it, Claire had emerged from her room. She was wearing a pair of smiling bumblebee pajamas that Cas had bought her, but had made her own design changes to make them look less childish.

Claire walked over to a chair and sat down, propping her feet up on the table. She nodded towards the book that Sam had just thrown. "What'd the book ever do to you?" Claire asked, grabbing another book off the table and flipping through it as if it were a magazine

"What?" Sam barely saw Claire sitting there. When he turned around and saw her, he sighed, and went to pick up the thrown book.

When Sam didn't fully respond, Claire continued. "So where're the angel and the murderer? And what's for supper?"

Sam stared at her in shock. "So you're talking now?" He walked over to the table and started closing all the books and stacking them into piles. He picked up the coffee mugs and went to put them in the sink in the kitchen. Claire's voice was heard in the kitchen but was lost to Sam. He grabbed some boxes of cereal, milk, bananas, and two bottled waters and headed back to where Claire was sitting. "What did you say?"

"I said", Claire exaggerated with an eye roll, "that I was talking before."

"No, you were sulking and hating on everyone." Sam passed her a bowl and a water and put the others on the table in front of her.

Claire grabbed the box of cereal and poured some in her bowl. She reached for the milk. "Well, I figured since I can't exactly leave this place, I might as well not die in solitude," Claire shrugged, eating a spoonful of cereal.

Sam nodded. "I guess if that's how you want to look at it." He opened a bottled water and took a sip.

"So," Claire started again. "You didn't answer my question yet. About where they are."

Sam looked down at his water. He opened his mouth but closed it again without saying anything. "They're gone."

"What?" Claire's spoon shook slightly in her hand. "Why? Where'd they go? Are they coming back?"

Sam looked at her sympathetically. "It's okay, they're going to come back. They always do."

"But where'd they go?'

Sam sighed. "It's a long story, one that I'm not sure you want to know."

Claire looked pointedly at Sam and crossed her arms. "I want to know. I've got the whole night."

Sam stared at Claire's defiant pose, internally fighting with himself. Finally, Sam lost the fight with himself and decided to start at the beginning. He opened his mouth, and started to tell Claire everything.

After about an hour, Sam finally finished, and took a huge sip of water, his mouth dry from telling his life story. He looked at Claire, waiting for her to say something in response to everything. However, Claire just sat there, staring in shock in front of her. She opened her mouth and raised her eyes to look at Sam, but quickly closed her mouth and dropped her eyes.

Sam frowned. "I'm sorry, Claire. You shouldn't have had to be burdened with that." Sam made a motion to leave the table, but Claire held her hand up to stop him.

"No," Claire corrected Sam, "I needed to know. It's just a lot to process, especially about my father and…and Castiel," Claire looked away solemnly.

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he watched Claire mentally struggle with what he just told her. He wasn't the comforting type; he was the little brother that was always comforted by Dean. Luckily for Sam, Claire snapped herself out of it and put her strong, obstinate face back on.

"So they're finding a transformer now?" Claire asked for clarification.

Sam smiled. "Not Megatron, Metatron. And yea, that's where we hope they are," Sam replied, his smile fading.

"And Metatron is in heaven?" Claire repeated skeptically. She shook her head. "You know, after that whole angel thing, I stopped believing that there was a heaven. And now you're telling me there's a jail in heaven? It's just a lot to believe. And I don't do this whole believing thing."

This was one topic where Sam actually had a lot to say. "You know, when Dean came and got me from Stanford, I was religious. I believed in angels and God and everything." Sam smirked. "Dean used to make fun of me, and during one case I thought I saw an angel, but it ended up being a spirit. I lost all my faith and beliefs. Until Cas brought Dean back from hell. I started to believe again. I found out that faith is easier to have than you think. You just have to open yourself again to it."

Claire rolled her eyes but looked ashamed nevertheless. For the next couple hours, Claire and Sam sat in silence.

Meanwhile, Cas had zapped Dean and himself to heaven's prison where Metatron was being held. Dean cautiously approached his cell, wondering whether this idea was as smart as he originally had thought it was. Finally, Dean was right in front of Metatron's cage and he stared at Metatron whose back was turned. Cas moved to stand behind Dean at an angle, and cleared his throat to attempt to address Metatron.

"Metatron." Cas' deep voice echoed throughout the cells, and the severity of his tone was clearly shown.

Metatron didn't turn around when he responded. "Castiel? Is that you? And I'm assuming your human is with you as well."

Dean glanced at Cas and shrugged. "We need your help," Dean told the back of Metatron's head.

Metatron slowly pivoted where he stood, and when the light finally illuminated his face, there was a huge smile plastered across it. "I was wondering when you were going to come back and visit," Metatron said, walking closer to the cell bars. "I was starting to think you forgot about me."

"Shut it, douchebag," Dean growled, removing an angel blade from his waistband. "Just listen." Dean thrust the tip of the blade right beneath Metatron's chin as close as he could without actually piercing the skin.

Metatron threw his hands up in surrender. "I'm all ears," he exaggerated.

"Tell us how to remove the Mark off Dean, or how he can transfer it onto another person," Cas spoke up, his eyes never leaving the blade that was against Metatron's skin.

Metatron stayed quiet. Dean grabbed Metatron's lapel and shoved him forward against the metal bars, keeping his grip on the angel blade.

Metatron let out a grunt as his face hit the metal and blood started to drip down from his split lip. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, glanced down at the crimson stain, and back up to Dean. "Is this how you treat the people who are trying to help you?" Metatron asked coolly.

Dean's green eyes flared. "This is how I treat the losers who kill me and who won't answer my friend's question," Dean remarked icily.

"It wasn't a question. You will tell us how to get rid of Cain's Mark," Castiel threatened in a commanding voice, trying to intimidate Metatron.

"You didn't even say please," Metatron replied, half-turning away from both of them.

Dean rolled his eyes in anger and looked at Cas and sighed. "Please," Dean gritted through his teeth.

"That's more like it!" Metatron cheerfully responded, putting his full attention back onto Cas and Dean. "Now, where were we? Oh yes, the Mark of Cain and its removal. You know, I think I might just have the right spell that will solve your problems."

There was a long pause. Dean waved his hand to motion for Metatron to continue. Finally, Dean became frustrated enough. "And what's the spell exactly?" Dean roughly asked.

"Well," Metatron started, "it's very complex. I'd have to do it myself."

Dean shook his head. "No way. Just write it down, or something."

"It's not that easy, Dean," Metatron reprimanded as he started to pace back and forth within his cell.

Dean turned away from Metatron and rubbed his jaw in frustration. He looked to Cas to see if he had any ideas, but Cas was lost in thought.

"Cas? …Cas?" Dean repeatedly called out to his friend, eventually going over there and shaking his shoulder.

Cas blinked several times before turning towards Dean. "Metatron's telling the truth."

"What?" Dean face furrowed in confusion.

"The spell. Metatron's right. It is very complicated. Even I wouldn't be able to complete such a spell. It has to be him," Cas told Dean sternly.

Dean looked taken aback. "You're kidding right?" Dean paused to look at Cas, but his hardened face remained unchanged. "Damnit," Dean swore, and started pacing with his hands on top of his head. "So what now? We bring Metatron to the Bunker where Claire and Sam are? Because that doesn't seem like a smart idea!" Dean whispered to Cas, his hands slowly dropping to his sides again.

"I can put a binding on him, similar to what we did with Crowley. He will be unable to fly anywhere or do anything unless we allow him to." When Dean still looked unsure, Cas reemphasized his point. "It's our only chance, Dean."

"Are you two done gossiping yet? I'd really like to get out and stretch." Metatron made a motion of doing stretches to showcase his statement.

Dean kept his back to him while he thought everything over. This was in no way their best plan, but to Dean, the ends justified the means. "Do it," Dean whispered to Cas, "put the binding spell on Metatron and take us to the Bunker."

Cas nodded and heaven's prison slowly faded away.

Both Claire and Sam were buried in books when a loud crash was heard. Claire looked up first but waited until Sam had acknowledged it too. When Sam met Claire's eyes, she began to worry.

"What was that?" She asked, glancing down one of the Bunker's hallways.

Sam was quick to put two and two together and grimaced. "They're home."

Sam jumped up from the table and ran to the Bunker's dungeon where the noise most likely came from, and Claire was just a few steps behind him. Sam was at the bottom of the stairs when he stopped suddenly, making Claire bump into him from behind. But Sam couldn't will himself to move forward. True, Dean and Cas were back home, but they had brought someone else along. Metatron was sitting unconscious in the middle of the dungeon, chained up and surrounded by different binding sigils that Sam recognized.

Sam's voice got caught in his throat as he urged himself to keep walking. "Dean? What are you…?" He couldn't finish his statement before Dean cut him off.

"I'm sorry, Sammy. We had too," Dean replied, looking at Sam stoically.

Claire was the only one who had no problem walking right up to Metatron. "Who is that?" She asked to nobody in general, examining the different sigils painted around him.

"His name is Metatron," Cas responded, keeping his eyes fixed on Metatron.

Claire, remembering what Sam had just told her, took several cautious steps back. "Are you guys insane? He killed you!" She turned questioningly to Dean, her voice rising with every word.

Dean raised his hands and motioned towards Claire to calm down. He glanced at Cas as if to say 'She's your problem'.

Cas tentatively walked towards Claire and tried to place a hand on her shoulder but she stepped away hastily. "He is going to help Dean. You have to trust us."

Claire snorted. "The guy who stabbed him is going to help him now? Going to help him get rid of the Mark?" Claire sneered sarcastically.

Cas tilted his head as his eyebrows furrowed. "How do you know about that?" He looked towards Dean, who shrugged, then turned to Sam who ran his fingers through his hair and turned away guiltily.

"Damnit, Sam!" Dean scolded. "You don't just tell a teenage girl everything about us!

Now it was Sam's turn to get upset. "You know it wouldn't have happened if you didn't feel the need to just leave Claire and I here while you go get Metatron!" Sam turned to Cas next. "And you don't just abandon your daughter again!"

"He's not my father!" Claire screamed, adding to the chaos.

Cas was the only one who stayed quiet, unsure of what to say. Sam, Dean, and Claire continued to screamed, only to stop when a shrill laughter filled the Bunker's dungeon. Everyone turned to see that Metatron had regained consciousness.

"Oh don't stop on account of me. It was just getting good." Metatron attempted to cross his legs and arms in satisfaction but the chains prevented him to do so. He frowned at his restraints and shook them. "Are all these really necessary?"

"Yes, because in case you forgot, you stabbed my brother!" Sam yelled, walking over to stand almost directly in front of Metatron.

Metatron looked up at Sam in admiration. "Ah yes. That was one of my finest moments."

Dean pushed Sam out of the way and grabbed Metatron's shoulders, shaking him back and forth repeatedly. "Listen hear, douche. The only reason why you're still alive is the sole fact that you're useful, and the minute you're no longer useful…, well, you can imagine what could happen."

Metatron closed his mouth and Dean clapped his hands together and swiveled to face the rest of the group. "Okay! So, what's next? Anyone else have any complaints or concerns they need to get off their chest?"

Claire hung her head and Sam raised his chin and looked straight at Dean but neither of them spoke.

Cas finally opened his mouth. "I think the next appropriate step would be for you all to get some sleep, and then make Metatron perform the spell in the morning, as that would be practical and everyone would be more reasonable."

Sam nodded. "Cas is right. We need to get our heads on straight and we could all use a good night's sleep."

"Hello? I'm still here. Can't I get a pillow or blanket or something?" Metatron whined.

Dean rolled his eyes and motioned towards the staircase. Claire was the first to head back upstairs, her hair swinging behind her. Sam and Cas soon followed, ignoring Metatron. Dean was the last to leave, and glanced behind one last time to Metatron's protesting. Dean smiled evilly and swung the shelves back to hide Metatron, watching as the sliver of light on Metatron's face slowly disappeared.


	4. Chaos

Sam was the first one awake the next morning, but the sun wasn't even up. Cas had not yet returned to the Bunker from wherever he disappeared to at nights, and both Claire and Dean were still snoring loudly when Sam checked on them. After taking a quick shower and putting on one of his usual plaid shirts and jeans, he made his way to the kitchen to make himself a coffee. Sam leaned against one of the counters, taking slow sips from his mug as he tried to predict what the day would hold for all of them today, especially after almost ripping apart one another last night what with all the yelling. Sam wondered whether he could have guessed at the predicament he and Dean were in now, and decided that he never could have. He definitely would never expect to be housing both Cas' daughter and the angel who stabbed and killed Dean, forcing him to become a demon. Sam almost laughed despite himself at the craziness of it all, shook his head in disbelief, downed the rest of his coffee, and decided to call for Cas.

Once Cas had shown up in the Bunker, Dean was just starting to stir. He awoke fully clothed and staggered into the main lobby in the Bunker desperate for coffee. Sam smiled at the normality of it all as he handed Dean a steaming mug that he had just prepared for hm. Dean nodded his thanks and sank into the nearest chair, tilting his head up as if preparing himself for the oncoming conversation.

At first there was silence while everyone tried to figure out exactly what to say, careful not to make a repeat of the previous night. Finally, after finishing his coffee making him mostly wide awake, Dean spoke.

"Are we ready?" Dean asked, glancing at both Cas and Sam who seemed to be avoiding his eyes.

"I gathered all the materials I believe are required for Metatron's spell." Cas stood strong and looked prepared.

Sam nodded as he looked at both Cas and Dean, anxious to get this over with. "I guess we're as ready as we'll ever be."

Before heading to the basement, Cas surreptitiously locked Claire's bedroom door so she wouldn't be able to follow them when she woke up. Once he made it to the dungeon, Dean and Sam were already standing there, placing Cas' supplies on the floor in front of Metatron.

" Here," Dean told Metatron, indicating the ingredients that he placed near him. "This should be everything that you need."

"May I check?" Metatron smiled sweetly, raising his chained hands.

Dean looked at Cas and nodded. Sam made a motion to protest, but Dean held up a hand. This had to happen now. Dean made sure that everything was inside the angel sigil that was painted on the ceiling, knowing the Metatron would still be trapped as long as the paint remained intact. After checking all the sigils and other symbols, Dean nodded to Cas, and he snapped his fingers and the handcuffs and cuffs around his ankles clattered to the ground.

"Well now, that wasn't too hard?" Metatron commented, rubbing his wrists dramatically.

Cas stepped forward, straightening himself to his fullest height that his vessel could muster so as to loom over Metatron. Cas spoke in his most threatening, deepest voice: "The spell. Now."

"Patience," Metatron replied, walking around within the barriers of the sigil, "the Mark is no easy fix. The spell will take time."

"Of course it will," Dean muttered to himself, rubbing his temples in frustration.

As the hours past, the spell seemed to become more and more complex. Metatron was still sitting, transfixed on mixing and combining all the ingredients, only looking up once in a while to make his sarcastic comments. Sam, Dean, and Cas had all taken shifts to sit in the room with Metatron, making sure that everything was going according to plan. However, only Cas knew of the spell, and even then his knowledge was extremely limited.

Once Claire had gotten up and discovered that she had been locked in, she had started screaming and pounding on the door. Eventually, Cas surrendered and unlocked it and explained the situation to her. To his surprise, she understood and agreed not to go downstairs for the time being, letting Dean, Sam, and Cas handle it. She even convinced him to start watching Game of Thrones with her, and failed to hide her smile every time Cas spoiled the ending. She would never admit to it, but sitting and watching TV with Dean, Cas, or Sam, depending on whose shift it was, actually seemed normal and seemed as if she finally had a family.

When it was Sam's second time on his shift watching Metatron, Metatron looked up and a wide smile slowly appeared on his face.

"It's done." Metatron had barely spoken the two small words before Sam was yelling up to Cas and Dean.

Dean started running to Sam, Cas not far behind. They joined to stand together in front of Metatron, unsure exactly of how the spell was going to work.

Metatron watched as the three of them gave each other silent, confused looks and sighed. "Dean has to stand here." Metatron pointed to a space near him with only a bowl placed between them.

"No," Dean defensively started, "Do the spell from there."

"Don't be a coward," Metatron taunted. "You have to be here."

Sam put one hand on Dean's shoulder in consolation, and Dean moved to stand under the sigil with Metatron.

"Don't try anything," Sam warned, pushing his outer shirt to the side to reveal the glint of an angel blade.

Metatron pretended to be offended and brought his hand to his heart. "I wouldn't dare. Scout's honor."

Metatron bent down to pick up the bowl that was between Dean and him and grabbed Dean's right arm. He positioned the Mark right above the bowl and began chanting in a combination of Latin and Enochian.

At first nothing seemed to happen. Metatron continued to chant, slowly stirring in ingredients with one hand. All of a sudden, Dean let out a primitive yell. Sam and Cas rushed forward, but Metatron held his hand up to stop them.

"Don't! It's working!" Metatron called out, making Sam and Castiel hesitate.

Dean tried speaking through his clenched teeth. "Don't…stop. I can….do this," he gritted.

"You had better know what you are doing," Cas seethed.

Dean continued to scream for what seemed like hours to Cas and Dean. Then suddenly, Metatron stopped chanting, and Dean collapsed to the floor unconscious. Chaos erupted.


	5. Breaking Peace

Dean blinked his eyes several times, trying to make his vision become less blurry. The light in the room was too bright and he felt as if he had a terrible hangover. He groaned and shook his head, trying to clear the fogginess that he felt. Dean felt his own bed beneath him and became confused. He heard two people whispering and assumed the voices were Sam and Cas. Finally, Dean slowly and fully opened his eyes and sat up straight. He gasped. Sam and Cas were standing at the foot of Dean's bed. They stopped muttering once they noticed Dean was awake and just stared at him fearfully in silence. Dean still couldn't get over the initial shock he had at the condition of the both of them. Although Sam tried to cover it up, Dean noticed that he could barely stand without the support of the base of the bed. Sam was unconsciously holding his stomach, and Dean guessed broken ribs. There was a bloodied, white bandage on his forehead. Cas was only in a slightly better condition than Dean. He too had a bandage across his forehead and Dean could see another one underneath his collared shirt. Dean started to open his mouth to ask what happened but he stopped when he looked down. The sheets that covered Dean were flaked in dried blood. He pulled the sheets back quickly, hearing a racket as the shackles on his hands moved. The chains weren't what startled Dean; it was the amount of blood that was on his clothing that did. It didn't take long for Dean to put two and two together, and when he did anger rushed through him.

Dean gritted his teeth. "Let me go. I need to see Metatron," he seethed.

Cas glanced at Sam as Sam shook his head. "Look, Dean, you just need to take it easy for a while. You're okay. No black eyes or anything. Just some post-spell violence. We're fine," Sam tried reasoning with Dean.

Dean shook his head. "I don't remember anything. This is Metatron's fault!" Dean shouldn't have had to hurt anyone, especially his brother or best friend. He should have been free. "Let me go!" Dean shook his chains in frustration.

"Dean." Cas' low and commanding voice echoed through the room, but Dean wasn't listening. Instead, Dean set his jaw in focus, and let out a guttural grunt as he pulled against his restraints. Before Sam and Cas could do anything, the chains broke and clattered to the floor and with that, Dean ran out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Dean ran through the Bunker, experiencing the adrenaline rush that came with the anger he felt. Dean felt the heat of the Mark running through him and had the urge to take revenge, to kill. He slowly approached Metatron who was still bound in the Bunker's dungeon.

"Dean, this is quite the surprise. How are you doing?"

Dean's eyes flashed in fury. "You know damn well how I'm doing! You screwed up the spell."

Metatron smirked. "I did the spell perfectly, thank you very much. It just didn't work on you. You're too far gone to be saved."

"No! That's not true!" Dean screamed, his eyes tearing in frustration.

"You have to accept it sometime, Dean."

Dean shook his head and picked up an angel blade that was abandoned on a nearby table. He faced Metatron and raised the blade.

"Wait!" Dean turned to see Sam and Cas running down the basement stairs. Sam had stopped once he neared the dungeon's entrance and held out his hand towards Dean. "Don't do this."

Dean looked between Sam and Cas and Metatron. His gaze finally stopped on Metatron. He wouldn't let anyone control him anymore. He took one step closer, and plunged the angel blade through Metatron's chest, mimicking the exact way Metatron had killed him previously. As the life slowly drained from Metatron's eyes, Dean felt a surge of power. He pulled the blade back out of Metatron and let it fall to the floor with a thud. Sam and Cas both let out a scream and Dean turned to them. His hands were in fists at his sides and his face was stern. He walked past both Sam and Cas, pushing them aside as they tried to stop him. Once Dean reached the top of the stairs, he looked back down towards Sam and Cas, and when he did, his eyes turned black, and he was gone.


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue

Sam didn't think his life could have gotten any worse in the month following Metatron's death and Dean's departure. Both Sam and Cas were complete wrecks, and sometimes Sam felt as if Claire was his mother who forced him to get out of bed each morning. Cas stopped visiting the Bunker, and no one had any idea where he had gone. Sam spent that month just going through the motions day after day. He had lost all will to fight and to live after seeing his brother turn into a monster for the second time, after not being able to save him again. Claire had tried for the first week to knock some sense into Sam and even tried calling for Cas. However, when none of her attempts got her anywhere, she eventually left the Bunker, leaving Sam to himself. Sam barely noticed her leaving, and never bothered trying to find her again. He just took another swig of whiskey, ready for yet another long night ahead of him.

During the second month after Dean had turned into a demon, Sam started to slowly put himself back together, and by the end of that month, he was back to normal, or as normal as he could be considering. Sam got back to hunting slowly, starting off with simple and easy hunts for a couple weeks before completely easing back into the life he had been living previously.

At the start of the third month, Sam decided it was time to find both Claire and Cas after realizing that they were the only family he had left and that he wasn't willing to give them up. After donning his FBI outfit a couple of times, Sam found Claire living by herself in an apartment that was recently abandoned by the owner. Sam could have sworn that he saw tears in her eyes when she saw him approach her. She smiled and nodded as Sam asked her to move back into the Bunker. Working together, it took Claire and Sam another month to find Cas. He had been doing penance on a small island in the Pacific. Cas had started to shake his head and move away from Sam once they met, but changed his mind once, to his surprise, Claire ran up to him and gave him a hug. Cas looked down at Claire whose arms were wrapped around him and smiled and hugged her back. Finally, the three of them were back together in the Bunker, and life continued.

When the fifth month arrived, no one would have been able to tell that such a tragedy had occurred. Claire had enrolled in a school nearby and was the best boxer, shooter, and overall student for the school. Cas had officially left the angel garrison and took it upon himself to completely organize the Bunker and to document everything and anything in the place. He also had taught himself how to cook so he could prepare dinners for Claire, Sam, and sometimes even Claire's friends. Also, on some nights, if Cas listened carefully, he could hear Claire call him "dad" as she drifted off to sleep. Sam continued to hunt as usual, but took cases that were closer home instead of traveling everywhere. One time during a hunt he ran into Dean. At first it was awkward and uncertainty filled the room. However, Dean just nodded at Sam and continued on his way, but not before Sam heard him whisper, "Hiya Sammy." Since that day, Sam often ran into Dean on his hunts, either by accident or on purpose. On those days, they would go out to the nearest bar and just sit drinking, not saying anything. However, those were the days that Sam lived for because on those days, Sam knew that he hadn't lost his brother like he had thought, and, as Sam sat down in between Claire and Cas, ready to watch a movie, he knew that he finally had a family, and although the family wasn't necessarily what he wanted, it was what Sam needed.

~The End~


End file.
